Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Dreamy talks Part 2

It has been some time since the dreamy talks ended. This happened because of the disinterest my species showed in discussions. I so miss Mary Jane all this time. The two looneys, lost in their respective utopias, talking, talking and talking about dreams for hours is a scene that I now think is nothing more than just a sweet memory.

The most profound thing in my dreams is that the story, in different context, takes place around the same area albeit in a different form. One such entity is an old dilapidated fortress that has been forgotten even by the cattle that stray all around it. The first time I discovered this (in the first episode of dream) was with my father who took me on a tour of the city he was working in. A normal Gwalior kind of city that reminded me of various excursions I undertook as a kid in and around the universe of Khajuraho. I have a thing for lonely places, the old lanes, crumbling corridors, and gallows that now speak of a pigeon going gutar guuuuu, gutar guuuuuuu. It is interesting to notice him noticing you with its spring neck that wobbles in all directions, and tiny eyes asking 'What the fuck are you doing here?' So anyway, the tour ends up in me fishing in back pond, as always moonstruck.

There is really no reason for me to remember my dreams so vividly that their retelling ends up boring my folks, especially my sister (Ha Ha!). But the whole journey that begins from somewhere and ends in me being all alone is just so fascinating.

Then I saw me revisiting an old industrial town that is now just a sketch from late 70s. A place where the factories are shut down, theatres put up painted posters and markets that have the same pink colour in which they were earlier painted. It is said that we don’t dream in colour but associate a shade from our conscious. I don’t wish to debate that as I am happy dreaming in Technicolor. This reminds me of a certain sequence in Gevacolour, a cross between Eastman and the modern version. So let it be, psychoanalysts; I play my own games.

So getting back on track, the same fortress I had seen earlier twice, appears in a new avatar where in it is a palatial mansion embellished for what it appears to be a huge celebration. And I, being the punctual guy, reach late. It is my cousin’s wedding and she is looking drop dead gorgeous in her mid-20s – she is 11 now. For me it is a reason to raise two toasts as she is marrying a cousin from my father’s side. In between I see my naani, who has been waiting to see me for a long time. Draped in a white saree with red border, and wearing pearls, she resembles Rajmaata (I come from Jaipur) and gets up with a huge smile on her face. “Where have you been? I have been dying to see you kittu!” I gradually learn that the celebrations are mellowing down and it is time for something special that only I can do. Naani holds my hand and goes to the Eastern corner of the mansion. Contrary to the scales of such places, this staircase is not more than 6 feet wide and has no carvings, no borders and no arch. As we walk I down, there is a question, ‘Naani, kahaan jaa rahe hain hum’. She just smiles and tells me that the only person capable of continuing the tradition is ME.

There is a play on my ear lobes that brings with it a serene calm and sweet smell. The sound is that of rippled waters, and the cool breeze sends that adorable tingle down your body. The kind, which is in the air at the end of springtime or in the October sunshine. Naani has bread in her hand, and when the door opens, there is water all around from the same pond. It is all the same but in a different light.

Despite pitch darkness, the glow from the fortress lofts on the water along with a fish popping here or there. We sit on the stairs with our feet immersed in the cool aqua, and feed the marine beauties. “Hasn’t it been a long time since you did this kittu?”

There is this thing with life – moments come in numbers and all of them are either pre determined or they end up being that. At times, there is a call in the heart that says, let this stand still, for I feel like one with myself. Let me live just one moment, stop the ticking and a sense of being complete within the universe brings a smile that we can never have in this cruel world.

And I am there, all by myself, allowing the nature to put in a few words and notes of itself. In between my eyes try to catch a playful moon on the surface that moves here and there and then everywhere. Breathing contentment, I walk out to find that everybody has retired and it is time I catch a grub. I go for a place without understanding why? My feet just take me there, to an old bakery shop. And everyone there is just so happy to see me. It is like nostalgia.

‘Kittu baba, kahan ho?’ asks baba – that’s what I call him. He gives me a chucky, the groundnut and jaggery delight. This one is different, it is filled with groundnuts, almonds and pistachio and is really thick. I am not charged, for I used to steal this as a kid. There is nothing in the world that I used to ask for except this delicacy.

And then, my now-conscious brain, that is dreaming, decodes the dream and takes me into a sepia-tinted flashback mode. There goes the young me stealing a little, running away with a brave man’s smile and rushing to the eastern corner. This is where I spent all my time feeding the fish.

I realised that somewhere within the vagaries of time, I have lost myself. The kid inside resides within the forgotten lanes, unnamed streets, stone cave-corners et al. As I write this down, there is lump in my throat that I am trying hard to suppress. At any given moment, I would rush down to my old fort and play around with solitude.

Let the ripples lift me and play around like angels with a cute little kid. That is that I wish for!

Thursday, March 22, 2007

The two-faced soul (double entendre? naah)

PRE SCRIPT: It takes two to tango. It takes a little bit of humane touch to get close to an individual. The connection between any two is dependent on a code of communication one can never decode; when they do, it is a different picture. Those who follow this get two slaps right across their face. So moonstruck keeps two faces. And that is made out to be his forte albeit not the way he wished.

Sweet Ashi once asked me why do I live two lives, one with the people and one with myself. I replied that it is not just me but everyone. One's expressions with the others, inclusive of everyone, will never be the same when he/she is alone. It seems logical to me, needless to say, she sort of disagreed. Her take was, 'Why can't you be yourself?'. Would people see that should have been the right question.
I hate it when I am in a certain comfort corner (I love alliteration) with someone who I presume will make an extra effort to understand or at least listen to what I have to say. That is not the right thing to do, for then there is an expectation that comes into play and you are unsure of the reaction. Lest we forget, it ends in disappointment!
Then again, there are judgements that humans love passing without thinking. A certain blogger (hmmm.... ya blogger) has a problem with people, read men, who assume things about her based on what she blogs about. But that is a different case. That is gender specific. We men make this silly mistake time and again to surmise things about any eve. Last I remember how at Climax, within my bunch of punju and noveau riche boys, a joke was passed around about this fantastically stylish and sexy 30-something woman who was a divorcee. To these guys, she was this ubiquitous lady that they came across in all the hip places for 'us young' people. The fact that she gulped down gallons of alcohol and danced in her own sexy way (sexy only to me), only added to her being termed as a loser, the-ambitious woman-who-lost-out-on-good-men in her prime, and of course a slut who could sleep with you any day. So this is the case with men. And women are no less in passing these judgements with a shrug thinking that they are elite and women in reality while the others are simply rotten.
No, I am not talking about that as this is an issue that any one can handle. Also, it is a small headache that is best dealt with ignorance.
My point is with people not connecting or not showing that they can. They end up asking what is the problem and interrupt to pass their remark. Without realising, or maybe at times they do, they perceive of me as a cynic, pessimist, loser, cribbing nutcase. Which is annoying for I mustn't have spoken without considering that you appear a probable confidante. Coz you showed me that!!!!!
Why do we expect? Because we are humans! Why do we then fail in getting them to respond the right way? Because we are humans!! It is like that you have to end up living two lives; some do it openly, knowingly and others do it without thinking. I belong to the first category, like it is not obvious.
And now I have reached a point in my life where I will not get close to or let anyone get so close to me that when they don't get it, it wont hurt. And I will not drink out of frustration. Sassy says, 'Kirit you can't make people read between the lines'. You are right girl but then if the person is close to me, and above all a human, isn't it required on his/her part to do that. I never asked people to read between the lines, I just talk like that. And anyone who intimate with me will most definitely know that. Quite often I have ended up repeating a thing in different ways that it becomes straight at the end of the day. Yet, there is no sign of a healthy response. On the other hand, I learn that I am at the receiving end for being in my cocoon.
Do I have a choice? Yes, the one I just mentioned above. There is no point in expecting. There is no point in talking to people either. Especially those who already have a picture of you in their head before even saying 'hi' to you. It is like Meeta Mishra in Brunch thinking I am a gay because of my hairband and kaajal. It is like Pirate and his species thinking of me as a pretentious freak. Mayank and Sunday gang thinking of me as a carefree non-serious person. Varun sees me as a jester yet, he knows there is this dark side to me and I am actually what I look. I find it hard to ignore that people around know me for everything that I am not. Those who do, from now on, I wont allow them to cross my cocoon's buondaries. 'A' did that last year and I am still recovering from the mental breakdown. Not that it was her fault. It wasn't.
So I shall be two-faced and well, and wont be sad if not happy.

POST SCRIPT: A certain blogger (SiM) has me in her list the title line of which says 'stuff I read by people I admire and those I wish I knew...' This links' list has me too and moonstruck wonders why would anyone wished or be interested in a loser like me. I thank this girl for saying this and really for no one would ever do that, at least not to me, but I also find myself now so cut off from the world in one way that I wish I die soon. Or at least in peace.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

dreamy talks

PRE SCRIPT: The dreamer in me has weaved some fantastic tales while gazing into the thin air. The human inside has always tried to connect with another human, with of course disturbing results. Nag is a man I admire, at one time we were on the opposite end in two quizzes, and he and I won each. I admire him more than he can ever understand. He has helped me with one of the most pertinent aspect of my life. When I had joined this graveyard HT, I saw a weird tale unfold in three stages and it had him too. One of the things that I have learnt, and really the hard way, is that never hold back something you wish to share. I find talking heart to heart has anyway been molested by us humans so I prefer to write it fown. Maybe someday, someone would pay attention. Even if they don't, it is imperative for them to stop being a robot/zombie in this strange world.

Hi Nag,
This is not the time and space to say this but since it is something so interesting that I cannot stop myself from telling you. It is this series of dreams I saw last night. For the first time, I saw this series of 3 dreams immaculately inter-linked with each other. The first dream showed the world some 50 years from now. Technologically super-advanced, traffic problems under control, metro running throughout New Delhi. It is a world our scientists imagined in those sci-fi graphic novels of the 50s and 60s. But as it has to
be, there is chaos, we are not calm anymore we are not human anymore, natural resources have all died out but being humans, we have invented artificial resources and those too aplenty. But it is the fucking anarchy around so it is just the surface we are happy at.
Then there this was this deafening bang, with light as powerful as a nuclear bomb, but only releasing the electromagnetic waves, it is meant for Armageddon, but then...
So I woke up went and had water, THEN when Ii was in sleep, the dream continued. This 2nd phase had me and few others of our species. WE are the last of the survivors and we all get along we shed tears of sorrow and joy. There is nothing around us except nature, that’s it. It is like we from the technically superior times have reached to the age-old world of ours. And then something happens which is not pleasant and I wake up coz it disturbed me. Went out had a smoke and slept again
The dream enters the 3rd phase, with me and few others of my family, I cant recognise them, we are travelling in an open air train, amidst a series of mountains which look like grand canyon. As I traverse further, I learn that this is one of those sites where the big bang occurred. I wonder on my way how come so soon we have developed a roller coaster, which is like trans state. And as I look down the depth of the area is somewhere near 10,000 feet or maybe more so it is very
scary but we are very safe for the tracks are smooth and very well built. Guess what happens next, I enter a colony that resembles my old colony of Mansarovar in Jaipur. Everybody has started using so many different colours for their houses; we have proper animal shelters and not lashed anymore. Fountains and gardens that we all have made. And then when I am about to enter a flat which supposedly bears my name and 2 others, I see 2 people welcoming me and saying something to me I cant hear what r they saying.
As I go closer I learn that one is a male and other female. The female is my soul mate buddy Reeti from Delhi. And the male is none other than Narendra Nag. As I look towards the horizon with them, u say "Kirit, welcome to the brave new world."
Phew!!!!!
As a dream catcher this is perhaps one dream for me that I did not need to analyse or work towards or track down so that as to understand it. And surprisingly all of them ran for 2 hours each. Isn’t it great Nag? I think it is something that we all should work towards. Already our civilisation is heading towards decadence, we may have made technological advancements, eradicated diseases, abolished slavery, capitalism, imperialism, earning way more than our fathers and forefathers. BUT, we are not happy from inside. Our lives no longer have a meaning and we don
’t even need to have one with so much luxury around. Then there is this huge divide between the rich and the poor today. Of the 1.3 billion people around the world living under 1$ a day, 900 million are women and that is the amount in dollars MGM is spending to construct MGM Grand Macau. And this is just one of those numerous disturbing statistics. And then the problems of pollution, flora and fauna getting extinct.
God I hope this dream becomes a reality soon and I hope you are there with me to raise the all of us joining hands as one force and I really really really hope that you say those last lines to me in real.
I am sorry for writing this huge monologue mail, but I couldn’t contain this within myself and I cant eve
n talk about this in person over here in the office.

POST SC
RIPT: I was laughing like anything when Nag in his typical vein replied 'Dude, or let's just do acid!'.
I was on the floor, figuratively speaking. Anyway, this was the last time I made an attempt to remember my dream and talk (to myself, like always) about it. There is this feeling of seeing yourself in a different light after every dream-catcher (this is to define me and Reeti and those with whom I have discussed dreams at length) session that words can't describe. And now times have chang
ed so much that I wish to go back to the time I wasnt 'friendly' and lived in my own world; the one with the universe.
I really hope this dream comes true before I die.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

UGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

DUNIYA KEE JAAT KA PAAYDAA!!!! Chutiya life is fucking up vibrating dildos up my back as i am forced to BLOW a lot in this worldly JOB. Species tell me to an ANALysis. this is getting worse day by day. I am so fucking pissed, no SO FUCKIN PISSED that tomorrow I am going to find one areshole and fuck it till it bleeds to death. I am going to shove it up so hard so long that the testicles will burst with semen and blood. RAPE! That is what i am going to do to this world. Looking at this picture I shall grapple these weirdos from all around applying a head crunch. Then I shall grapevine them and watch in pleasure as their body is pressed to half of it. A superb figure four shall pulverise the face, turning it red from pale to blue and finally purple. and then the painful pink. The brain nerves will explode with blood coming out like a fountain. The demonic resurrection of Kirit Kiran will see this world in agony and pain. Dark cloud of fear will loom large on humanity sending them into oblivion. Then, with full force I shall punch with an iron hand. I dont give a flying fuck how much will they cry in pain. BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM
Until their faces are unrecognisable from every angle and medical records, I shall continue my outburst. Finally I will start ball-busting and stomp them. These dicks will then be tied to a tree and lashed at badly. So hard that their ribs will show an encased heart pumping the last dose of blood. CHOPPPPPP!!! Off go the balls and SLASHHHHHHHHHH!!! off go the legs. A dagger will then pierce through the heart, take it out hanging and breathing its last and then shown to the specimen, Look you motherfucker, you shouldnt have messed with me!!!!
Dont take me for granted or screw me over and over again. ALL I ASKED WAS MY SHARE OF AIR AND SPACE and you behnchod duniya fucked me as if I was a boytoy.
Maa chudayo sab ke sab!!!!
I may not be wearing pink lingerie or get silicon implants, but this is the perfect pictorial representation!! FUCK YOUUUUUU

Monday, March 12, 2007

ne plu ne plah

I learnt this style of gibberish from Sush and... well.. it means nothing. This might contradict the dicitionary meaning of gibberish but who cares. People are crazy, times are strange and given the current scene, I am totally out of range. The trouble is that I still care and things have changed. Going by these times, I can well imagine myself to be this down and out loser some ol' acquaintance bumps into while strolling with the heavy wallet on the streets of Pushkar. My appearance would resemble a bohemian who dreamt that this world is a beautiful place to live in. The one who always daydreamt with profound eccentricity and is seen as a looney making no sense at any given moment of time. The world would be disgusted at the very presence and would politely express that on my face by spitting a dozen times. My great mane of today shall be present, albeit in patches, perhaps. This world is not a place for freaks like me who are frank, honest and not opinionated. Every company that employed me would have tossed me several times like an old samosa being fried in local oil. For no matter how hard I would work, the word ASS would be writ large on my face.
Saturday night when I met Brenden from Ireland, there was a happy feeling - 'Thank god, I am not the only sane rebel'. Actually, this word has a dual meaning and today, even if a person is not the vandalist or the blasphemy-injected hooligan, for the world, he would be that only. Anyway, so I as drove back in peace, there was this question that was haunting me from all sides asking me the meaning of the quote, and its relevance. If one would be asked about me, would there ever be an answer that is devoid of mockery and an opinion.
I have never so weak in my life ever. It is like, Kirit was meant to be down in the dumps forever. While everyone is outside celebrating their existence blissfully, this man is busy gulping down alcohol by litres. And cut to the future, there will be a man walking with a dog barking at the obnoxious attire and tattered soul. The pants would finish by my knees, there would either be a shirt or a vest, better still, just a piece of cloth, the patched head would be covered by a Jewish hippy hat who showered some pity on me, a collection of parchments that would be my diary or so I would force you to think, a mouth organ that would send some notes in the air in the foolish hope of being reciprocated and a tear that never dropped.
So when you bump into me few years down the line, please make a note of my presence on the street with no name. For I will greet you with a smile that was waiting for a long time. Pushkar might not be the utopia I'd die searching, but it would give me a space of my own, the pad, the yard, a flower, a ray of hope, a drop of jupiter, a mouthful of sky, the bird's chirp, a friend in solitude, a moment where I'll dance with my illusions and wait for some divine intervention to stop the monstrosity in this world. See you there.

Signed

Moonstruck, the loser

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Wet dreams or explicit, this is all about good sex!!

The template of this blog is self-explanatory. A long time ago, Asif, one of best friends, and me were discussing how sex is such a deep-rooted entity of our civilisation. And how we humans either perceive it as a physical exchange of hormones between two souls in love or pure lust. Lust isn’t bad; it is in fact necessary to raise the tempers. But the lust that we referred to, of course, was defilement. That becomes an uncalled for coitus that destroys the sanctity of copulation.

Now the reason why one is aroused stems from the physical attraction that is independent of gender. Let me not go into that territory as it is a sensitive issue and shall be discussed in one of the following posts.

This brings me to the premise of the new series that I had conceived some time back and probably never got the time to pen it down. I am fascinated with pornography and this has got nothing to do with perversion or voyeurism. Pornography is lurid or sensational material, a sort of a vulgar depiction of any existing thought in the universe. A representation, usually obscene these days, of the innermost desires that is pertinent to existence. What can be pondered upon is that is it an offshoot of vanity or an extension (there is a difference between the two) or a mere explicit image?

I believe that one’s indulgence in vanity resulting in a sexual act of any sort is required for the soul to feel great about itself. Bunny Glamazon’s ass is one of the best that can take you in, literally. The amazon’s leather and lace outfit forces me to weave a nice BDSM story, soft or hardcore depending on my mood, and derive pleasure out of it. I shall be discussing more about her in the following posts that deal with BDSM, fantasies, facesitting, erotic mixed wrestling and mixed wrestling et al.

Some people will definitely call it explicit and just another fantasy or a little boy’s wet dreams. The point is that I am feeling good while the ‘pen’ moves. (HA HA)

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

.................

When was the last time I ran amok on a street just for kicks while others watched with disdain? Isnt that a heavy word to use for the others who have never cared for what you stand for? What rule do they follow when they know the person for everything that he is not? Why is Charlie Chaplin thought of a great actor and not Buster Keaton? Whatever happened to Fatty Roscoe Arbuckle? Why do we pay the price for things that we probably never asked for? Is it mandatory for us to live the way others or the society expects us to? Why do some people like Nanda and Bose get away with idiotic pieces called news stories, that end up on the front page? Why does the dork Shreevatsa Nevatia gets to be in the limelight, given he has no knowledge at all? Why do Lavanya and all think that they should be like me? What is it about me that is worth liking? Why was I shoved in a corner when the others laughed at me? Why dont they get the same treatment? What has any accessory got to do with a celebrity? Why cant we live on our own and not emulate others? Where is the individual lost? Why aren't taboos cured, in the minds of people? Why dont we stop for a moment and breathe the air? Why dont we stop and play with dead leaves without speaking and let the autumn send some nice sounds to our heart? Who added the 's' in the word lisp? Oh, out of way!
When was the last time you had sex and didnt expect the girl to be Angelina Jolie? When you were in the girl, did you smell the moment? Why is sex confused with lovemaking? Why is that whenever you do it, you are either supposed to be in love or the girl is a slut? How did men become men and women, women? Why is a homosexual called a freak? Why is a gay called a faggot? What is weird about loving someone your gender? Why is it that when a dick starts creating a tension in the underwear after noticing the feminine ass, he forgets about it while having sex? When a man can feel the ripple in the jockey at the sight, why does it take so long to get it 'up' during the session?
Why isn't every female keen on a combat roleplay and why just a mills and boon puppy love tale? How come a masseur and snobbish guest is a good exciting enough story and a domina with a foot fetish isnt? How come tall people are sexy? What defines sexy? Is it just the body? If yes, then why? How come few people are born sexy like Imran Khan?
Till what time will I keep on asking unanswered questions? How long can I look at the flicker of the candle and figure a belle on it? When will the moon smile at the maniac again? When will I get to see one moment of peace that belongs to me and only me?